All the broken and shunned creatures
by Matt Jerome Marshall
Summary: "Darkness will not return. We will cheat Dracula together you and I". Vanessa confronts the forces persecuting her and the challenges her feelings for Catriona Hartdegen pose. (warnings: does contain some spoilers)
1. Chapter 1

**Note:** _I was deeply dissatisfied with how Penny Dreadful ended so this is my take on the series finale. Vanessa/Catriona because they are perfect for each other. I apologise for eventual mistakes. Reviews are always appreciated :)._

Hurried footsteps echoed on the cobblestones as passersby with snow-peppered black coats hurried in the streets without throwing so much as a glance to their surroundings, their eyes fixed on the street before them dimly illuminated by lampposts, or on their ticking pocket watches. Their faces were stained red with the cold, their noses running discretely as the frozen December air aggressed them, condensing their breath in puffs of smoky vapor.

A horse carriage trotted past, the animals' hooves hammering on the stone and breaking the otherwise perfect silence of the night, then faded into the distance until everything was quiet again. Catriona Hartdegen couldn't help but despise the automatism of the people around her, the mechanical absentmindedness with which they went about their business like oversized puppets. There was no clarity in their actions, no awareness nor discipline.

She strolled leisurely down the road, her hands deep in her coat's pockets to shield them form the bitter cold and eyes alert, picking up the smallest details around her with experienced precision. The snow fell quietly forming a blurred curtain around her but she enjoyed it, uncaring of the frozen flakes that found their escape down her collar.

She reached a large candid building and stood looking at the stark, metal door staring down at her. She knocked.

The door was opened to reveal with teasing slowness a bearded face, adorned with poignant eyes and the sternness of a man having known the deepest of pains. Sir Malcom Murray's lips curled in a smile when he recognized her, and stood to a side to welcome her into his home.

"Miss Hartdegen. We were waiting for you, do come in"

he said warmly in his deep, measured tone.

"Sir Malcom."

She greeted him in reply, stepping into the grand house and facing the impressive, elegant central staircase, upon whose wall hung the preserved head of a lion, a trophy of a hunting trip, no doubt, from Sir Malcom's days in Africa.

"Miss Hartdegen. I'm glad you could make it."

A sultry, glass-cut voice rang out at the top of the stairs and echoed softly in the hall as light footsteps collided with the wooden stairs, revealing the otherworldly beauty of Vanessa Ives. Ocean-blue eyes set on Catriona's warm hazelnut ones and burned deep with a multitude of unspoken words.

"It would be rude to miss such a reunion Miss Ives."

A distance was kept between the two women and Catriona's trained eyes couldn't help but take in the sophisticated elegance of the woman's dress, with its midnight blue taint, delicate lace patterns and the generous expense of pale, unblemished cleavage it left exposed. Vanessa smiled, ruby red lips sharp against perfect white teeth, then gestured towards the living room.

"Please do take a seat and join us. Mr. Chandler, Sir Malcom and Doctor Frankenstein were discussing their latest adventures I believe."

She added with the hint of an amused chuckle playing on her lips, tugging at their corners.

"Ha yes, the famous travels to Africa no doubt, or am I mistaken gentleman?"

"I believe you are quite correct Miss Hartdegen."

"I presume you wished to spend time away form the creatures of the night after the recent events, did you not? Speaking of which, may I enquire as to how your wound is progressing Sir Malcom?"

for a moment, the men seemed speechless, then the patriarch smiled.

"I believe it is healing nicely, thanks to your prompt intervention I must say."

The woman smiled with evident satisfaction and casted a furtive glance at Vanessa, who leaned against the doorframe with an amused glint shining in her pale orbs. Before long, they sat at the dinner table, initiating the meal. Dinner was surprisingly joyful, characterized by full hearted chuckles on behalf of even the dear Doctor Frankenstein, who was normally rather serious in his mannerisms and dark in his humor. They discussed topics that beheld no depth chatting about the latest news of Sir Malcom's trip to Africa, not that Catriona cared, in fact she held strong opinions in regards to the exploration of the Black continent but she deemed it unpleasant on her behalf to let them be known to Sir Malcom. As she ran her gaze along the table she couldn't help but think that they truly were a company of misfits, an unlikely patchwork of unusual lives brought together by some twisted desire of fate. There was Sir Malcom, with his cruelty and selfishness masked by his joviality and his care for Vanessa; a man who had lost his wife and children at hos own hands and still mourned the loss yet carried on with life. At his right stood Ethan Chandler, pragmatic and mysterious with the faintest hint of arrogance; a renegade exiled from his homeland, tormented by his crimes and his underlying affection for Vanessa Ives. Next to him sat Victor Frankenstein, a drug addict skilled with scalpels she failed to understand; an enigmatic young man that demonstrated surprising naivety and an even more dramatic clumsiness. In front of Catriona at Dr. Seward, a stern serious woman perpetually analyzing every aspect of her comrades' psychology; a killer ready to put her life at risk for a greater good. And then there was Vanessa Ives. The most inexplicable of enigmas, an iron will encased in a fragile body of formidable beauty; a sharp intellect and unwavering faith tormented by entities far beyond death itself. Catriona was drawn to her like a moth to a flame.

The company split hours later, when dinner was long finished and drinks had brightened their eyes. Victor Frankenstein retuned to his home, Dr. Seward to her study and Catriona was preparing to bid the remaining trio farewell when Vanessa Ives spoke out in her composed, clipped voice.

"Miss Hartdegen, would it be terribly improper for me to ask you to stay? I have important matters I wish to discuss for you. You may use the guest room if you wish…"

Catriona looked at the woman whose clear gaze betrayed no emotion nor clue as to the theme of their discussions to be.

"It would be improper. Lucky for you, I am not one to care for appropriateness."

She smiled.

"Very well. Follow me if you please. Gentlemen, would you be so kind as to take care of the dishes?"

Catriona followed Vanessa upstairs, in her minimalistic room adorned with nothing but a bed, a cross and a writing desk. She was gestured to sit on a chair and obeyed.

"I am sure you have seen the sings yourself Catriona. Dracula has made his return, lurking in the darkness no doubt, but back nonetheless."

There was pain in her voice as the dreadful words brought back sharp memories, flinging them at her very soul and causing an unbearable agony and Catriona reached out for a cold, pale hand, taking it into her own and pressing soft lips against the smooth skin before replying.

"But this time you are prepared. You know his strategies Vanessa, every trick, every ruse… and you are no longer alone. You have Sir Malcom and Mr. Chandler; you have Dr. Seward…you have me."

The last words were spoken softly against Vanessa's hand as another kiss came to brush it, but the brunette's eyes betrayed a deep anguish.

"And if I were to surrender once more? If darkness was to return?"

"Darkness will not return. We will cheat Dracula together you and I"

The determination in her tone left little room for objections and her eyes burned with a protective gleam. She hadn't ripped away Vanessa Ives from Dracula's hands only to have her yanked away again, no… Vanessa was hers to keep, hers to protect for the men in the household had failed in their intent the first time. She stood up and cupped Vanessa's face in her hands, brushing her thumbs against perfectly structured cheekbones only to then trail them down to a beautifully chiseled jawline. She looked at the brunette woman for a moment, gauging out the raw emotions she displayed, then pressed her own lips to soft red ones that tasted of sweet wine. It was nothing more than a chaste peck but when they pulled apart both knew it sealed a silent promise.

"When he comes for you Vanessa, we will be ready to meet him. We will cheat him every chance we get and bring him to his downfall."

She whispered pressing her forehead against Vanessa.

"You will not leave me?"

"I will not leave you."

They were separated by heavy footsteps echoing in the corridor. Their proximity to Vanessa's room indicated they belonged to Ethan Chandler and Catriona composed herself.

"I do believe I have to go"

she stated, Vanessa nodded softly.

"Yes, you are quite right Miss Hartdegen. But please, it is late, do stay the night."

She added, opening the door and finding Ethan preparing to enter his room. Catriona stepped out into the corridor.

"With pleasure Miss Ives."

"I will lead you there, please follow me"

she led the way to the guest room, opening the door for Catriona to enter. It was a richly decorate room with a comfortable-looking bed.

"Thank you Miss Ives."

"Don't hesitate to call me if you need something. Good night"

"Good night"

"Vanessa... are you all right?

Ethan Chandler's voice held a distinct note of worry and his dark eyes looked at her with concern as his hands came to hold her shoulders softly. He had intercepted her as she came back to her room.

"Yes Mr. Chandler, I am quite all right."

She answered softly. There was love in his eyes too and for the first time in the years she had known him, she wished the love he demonstrated would subside. She had loved him in the past, she truly had, but his betrayal burned and Catriona had come to fill the gaping hole he had torn into her soul. She had been there for her when he hadn't. Not that she blamed the Lupus Dei. She understood and she cared for him deeply still, but her feelings no longer ran as deep as love.

"Vanessa…"

he breathed out almost reproachfully. He knew how to read her, tell the truth from the lies and when his fingers came to brush a lock of hair away form her face she knew he was trying to make up for everything he had missed out on in the past.

"Mr. Chandler, please."

She took a step back, hugging herself and leaving the man dumbstruck, looking at her without understanding where he could have gone wrong. She sighed, knowing all too well the conversation she had to pursue but hoping it could have come later.

"Mr. Chandler, the destiny of every individual is ever changing. Tarot cards can predict one's role as you well know, but can be interpreted in multiple ways."

She looked ta him hoping he would understand and saw him swallow as the realization of where the conversation was going hit him.

"Our lives have been intertwined Mr. Chandler and I won't deny I have loved you. You are an exceptionally kind man and there are few like you on this earth. But things change."

She paused, looking at him with a mixture of pain and tenderness.

"Vanessa…I made it my purpose to protect you. I am not going back on my word now."

"That I know."

He remained quiet for a moment, then nodded softly.

"May I ask why Miss Ives? Why this change?"

she smiled sadly.

"I am afraid Mr. Chandler, I cannot let you know that and I do ask you not to enquire further. Good night."

She left with her heart heavy and tears pricking her eyes, for she did care about Ethan Chandler deeply and leaving what had been her dream for years was a painful task. She sought the safety of her own room, closing the door behind her to prepare herself for bed before kneeling on the wooden floor facing the cross that had been hung back on the wall. She joined her hands and closed her eyes, murmuring her Latin prayers softly but with the same certainty she had in the past, before her faith wavered, before she succumbed to the dark and casted the world into the shadows. Her relationship with the almighty was a complex one, when she had needed him the most he had failed to answer her; someone else had, a force much darker and dangerous that would torment her for the better part of her life. And yet she still believed in God, believed in his justice and love even when she felt unworthy of it. Then she went to bed, abandoning herself to a dreamless sleep.

Something warm and slick slid down her neck and ventured down her collarbone, sliding down the hard ridge of her sternum between her breasts and further down to her side, ending its trail on immaculate bed sheets. Cold, pale hands trailed along her jaw and a warm breath hung close to her face. It wasn't until the sharp pinprick of pointed teeth met her skin that Vanessa was cast awake. She stood up and toppled whoever, or whatever had been there, making it land on the floor with a dull thud. A rabbit lied next to her, its eyes pale, neck torn out with a gush of warm, sticky blood oozing out of the wound. Vanessa fought back the urge to vomit and turned to the creature who had been there without seeing it. She scanned the room without noticing anything. The window hung open and the cold December wind howled softly in the room, causing the curtains to flow in the air like lost ghostly shapes. Whatever it was, it had gone away. A shiver of fear ran down her back as she flung herself out her bed and down the corridor. She acted on instinct ignoring Ethan Chandler and Sir Malcom's rooms and heading towards the guest's room, knocking softly but not waiting for an answer. She suddenly felt foolish standing on the doorstep in her bloodstained nightgown but it was too late to go back.

Catriona sat up in bed as soon as she heard the knocks and her heart skipped beat when she saw Vanessa looking like a ghastly vision with the blood staining her clothes and skin and the wide-eyed gaze of someone mad with terror.

"What happened?"

"He came."

Catriona frowned, then approached carefully, brushing Vanessa's hair to a side to bare the small puncture marks on her pale neck. The teeth hadn't had time to sink in fully but had left concentric wounds nonetheless.

"Our friend the Dragon himself? That is unlike him. No, it must have been one of his semi-human familiars. He is a tactician above all and isn't likely to engage in a frontal assault."

She poured some wine on a cloth and pressed it against the wound, hearing Vanessa's sharp hiss of pain when the alcohol cam in contact with the lesion.

"Renfield?"

"Most likely. He is the chosen one after all and is bound to have privileges over other familiars."

She finished cleaning the wound and pulled back to look at the woman standing before her.

"May I stay here tonight?"

her voice was unsure, similar to a shy child's.

"Naturally. Although I would recommend changing into clean clothing, if memory serves me well there are few things more unpleasant than the feeling of dried blood, not to mention it could bring the creature back."

She obeyed, retrieving a clean item of clothing from the storage cabinet in the room.

There was an uneasy silence as Catriona lied her in bed, not unlike a mother would a sick child, then joined her under the quilt. The steady rhythm of Vanessa's breathing filled the silent room and Catriona brushed her gaze over the soft curve of the woman's shoulder, the dip of her hipbone, the dark mass of black hair resting on the pillow like spilled ink on parchment. There was a soft, nearly invisible shaking to Vanessa's fragile frame that Catriona noticed without hesitation and compelled the red head woman to place a reassuring hand on the daywalker's back to feel the heat seeping through the nightgown and a hard, rough patch blemishing the otherwise smooth plane of muscle and bone. Her eyebrows furrowed in the dark at the discovery and with uttermost care, she traced the outline of the mark, acquiring the well defined shape it had with curiosity and disgust blending in her mind. She felt Vanessa tense, as if her instinct pushed her to flee the contact but she forced it upon herself to stay still, and heard her breath hitch as it did when fearful.

"Vanessa? What happened to you?"

she asked softly.

"It is a long story."

"I have time."

Vanessa swallowed and turned around to face Catriona, whose intelligent eyes were now looking at her filled with comprehension and most exceptionally…love.

"I knew a woman once. Joan Clayton was her name, who took me under her wing when I had nowhere else to go. She taught me the ways of the daywalkers and a number of other skills useful not only to us able to communicate with the demimonde, but to every man walking this earth. The cut-wife of Ballentree Moor was what they called her in the village, women would visit her to have their babies cut from them and she helped them all, at a price naturally but helped them nonetheless. But others brooded over her talents, accused her of being a witch and when the time came…."

A tear slid down her cheek and was brushed away by Catriona's thumb, that lingered on her cheekbone, stroking soft skin in an attempt to comfort her.

"When the time was right they came for her. For us. They tied her to the tree in front of the hut and covered her in oil, then burned her. She did nothing to stop them and when her body was a torch, they heated a metal cross on it."

The rets of the story failed to come out. It hurt to narrate and tore open old wounds but Catriona, who was now pulling her impossibly close, needed to know the truth. Deserved to know the truth.

"They branded me. And made me watch as she burned, until there was nothing left at all."

She was crying now, long sobs tearing through her chest as she hid her face against Catriona's shoulder and relished in the warm touch traveling on her back to soothe her.

"I'm sorry Vanessa. For everything. For asking you to tell me."

Vanessa didn't answer. Long fingers clung to Catriona, keeping her close as if she were scared the thanatologist could leave her. Harsh sobs tore the silence of the room as warm tears came to drench the red haired woman's nightgown. She felt the compelling need to hold Vanessa and never let her go. She felt so small, so fragile into her arms… no creature so frail should be weighted down by a destiny as tortured as the one Vanessa had to endure, surely God must know that. God…What God? What God would allow Vanessa to suffer so thoroughly? She who had maintained her faith through unbearable pain and evil-induced illnesses, she who had repudiated and defeated the Devil himself to reach her God's light.

Catriona placed a tender, heartbroken kiss on Vanessa's hair, allowing herself to liger against the soft silk of her hair and indulge in the intoxicating perfume they emanated whilst running a delicate hand along her back, stroking the branded cross lovingly as if wishing to chase the pain it had caused away.

"I won't let you suffer again Vanessa. They won't harm you. I won't allow it."

She whispered as the sobs lost momentum and quietened down. Vanessa remained quiet, her chest heaving with dying sobs and eyes still shining with freshly shed tears. After the crying ceased they remained still, fitting in each other's embrace like pieces of a puzzle and for a moment Catriona thought her friend had fallen asleep, then a whisper so quiet she wouldn't have heard it if she hadn't been so close to the woman, indicated otherwise.

"Catriona? I think…I think I may have fallen in love with you."

It was a delicate confession, almost shy in its admission.

"You must think me foolish."

Added the daywalker. Catriona smiled against the woman's neck and pressed a kiss to the shell of her ear.

"We both are foolish Vanessa. I believe I love you too, my dear Miss Ives."

It was Vanessa's turn to smile.


	2. Chapter 2

It was the crack of dawn and the first pale rays of sunlight filtering through the curtains awoke Vanessa. The evening before was faded and blurred in her memory and for a moment she truly believed it had all been nothing but a dream, it wasn't until a dull throb radiating in the side of her neck proved its truthfulness that she realized it had truly happened. The dinner, the attack, Catriona's soft embrace, it all came back to her like an overflowing river and she became suddenly aware of the strong, feminine arm resting across her hipbone and the soft form pressing against her back. A smile pulled at the corner of her lips. She made a delicate attempt at escaping the woman's embrace but in her slumber, Catriona pulled her close to her chest.

"Its still early Van. Come back to sleep"

she muttered, voice still groggy. - _Not sound asleep after all-_ thought Vanessa with a mental chuckle. She felt safe in the cocoon of warmth they had created for themselves, a foreign feeling she hadn't felt before, not even with Ethan. She knew danger lurked around the corner as the attack from the previous night had demonstrated, yet Catriona made it seem as if nothing could harm her as long as she stayed in their little harbor of peace. Delicate fingers outlined her figure from shoulder to hipbone, making her shiver softly and close her eyes, relaxing into the touch.

"I must thank you for placing your trust in me yesterday."

Catriona's warm breath tickled the shell of her ear and she allowed her hand to travelled back up Vanessa's marble curves and reach out to brush a strand of dark locks away from her neck to expose the pale column of flesh beneath.

"As must I for being so kind."

After the previous night's breakdown an odd sense of peace had fallen over Vanessa and she found herself happy for the first time in what truly seemed like a lifetime. She felt Catriona brush her fingertips over the puncture marks on her neck.

"I must say you were luckier than your friend Sir Malcom. His wound required cauterization whilst yours appear to be healing rather rapidly on its own."

There was a practical edge to her tone as she appeared to examine once more the wounds. The creature had evidently attempted to feed off Vanessa and what struck Catriona was the fact he hadn't gone through with his feeding frenzy, a rather odd event for the type of creatures they were dealing with.

"Whatever it was woke me up and fled when I moved"

How odd, Vampires hardly allowed their prey to escape and their physical superiority allowed for them to be much stronger than the average human to the point were even someone such as sir Malcom or Mr. Chandler would have had trouble winning a scramble against one. Vanessa being as frail as she was, it sounded almost impossible she would have succeeded in removing the creature from herself. But enough of that now, she shouldn't be think of it, not now that Vanessa appeared so calm and peaceful snuggled close against her chest. She wanted to kiss her. Not a peck, a real kiss, one to mark the beautiful woman as her own, one to take possession. Vanessa hadn't chosen Mr. Chandler, nor the pasty faced Dr. Frankenstein, no, she had chosen her and that knowledge swelled her heart with happiness and pride. With delicate gentleness, she applied just enough pressure on Vanessa's shoulder to coax her into turning to face her. Sky blue met hazelnut brown as their gazes locked. Vanessa knew the game, that same game of advance and retreat she had witnessed between Mina and Captain Branson years before, made up of light touches, furtive glances and tender complicity. It made her heart race and yet she was unable to tell if out of fear or anticipation. Catriona's fingertips run across her jawline, then traced a feathered path across her cheekbones until a delicate, warm hand was cupping her visage and soft lips were a breath away from her own. They stood there for what felt like an eternity, unsure on how to behave and frightened despite themselves of the intensity of their feelings. Finding peace and quiet away from the men of the household to share the occasional peck on the lips, or casting knowing glances across the table was one thing, not unlike what Mr. Chandler had done with Dorian Grey not so long ago, but this…this was different. It was serious, beyond fooling around and experimenting the way young women so often did. This was dangerous in their society as dear Mr. Lyle 's fate had so clearly shown. Then Catriona leaned in and Vanessa melted against her lips. It was a kiss unlike any she had shared with men, there was a sense of belonging and mutual respect blended with such tenderness it was disarming. Worry begun seeping in her mind when the familiar pull of passion and desire begun to manifest itself through lithe bodies searching for one another, sweet kisses and innocent, loving touches becoming strategic and demanding. Fear tore havoc in her peace of mind as the memories of the demoniac possessions such acts had unleashed came back to her. She couldn't allow the darkness to be unleashed. She couldn't allow the beats inside to tear her apart, not again, not with Catriona.

Catriona felt Vanessa turn her head to a side gently, pulling away to create a rather disappointing distance within them.

"I apologize. Perhaps I overstepped my boundaries."

"Please, do not apologize. It was quite all right."

The fencer looked at her without understanding but Vanessa's clear eyes locked with hers asking nothing better than to be believed and respect the decision. Something haunted them yet Catriona couldn't pinpoint its nature.

"Miss Hartdegen, there are dances in this world I cannot take part in for they unleash things within me better left in hibernation."

"We all have sides of ourselves better left hidden."

"And yet not all are destructive. You haven't seen it, this side of me, this darkness that consumes me."

There was pain in her voice and for a moment Catriona glanced at her, observing her mannerism, taking in that she had sat up and retreated back into her shell, rising her armor once more. She sat up as well, lifting Vanessa's chin softly.

"Have I not? Have I not had to slaughter the very same familiars you had caused to rise from the gutters? Have I not breathed the very pestilence you had turned the air into? I have not seen all there is, of that I am sure for you are a woman of great mystery Vanessa, but the darkness within you is something every person in this house has become familiar with."

"What you have seen is nothing but a taste of it. You haven't seen me when ill, when the demon within comes to the surface tearing and scratching, harming others and myself. You haven't seen me when slave to the devil, when I plea for death above all else."

She marked a pause.

"Please do not take this as a rejection. I truly do love you, but these feelings…their intensity is a challenge. Whenever I have given my heart to someone it has led to catastrophe and…well there would be no greater catastrophe than causing you any harm."

"I do understand and I respect your wish, but I do want you to know that whatever it is that haunts you, whatever darkness overtakes you, I can take."

A weak smile appeared on Vanessa's lips before she leaned forwards to give Catriona a rapid peck on the mouth. It sounded like a promise of things to come, of a normality that could be achieved when she learned to keep the demons under control.

Behind the locked door, Mr. Chandler's footsteps echoed as he made his way down the stairs to the dining room.

"I believe it may be time for us to join Mr. Chandler and Sir Malcom for breakfast."

"Yes, I'm afraid it is."

They drifted apart with natural easiness and Vanessa headed for the door to go back to her own room.

"You _are_ staying for breakfast are you not?"

She asked, lingering on the doorstep. Catriona smiled.

"If It is not too much trouble."

Vanessa smiled and disappeared into her room.

"The creature came back."

The announcement fell over the table gathered for breakfast like a bucket of ice. Shock, fear, anger all brought into the daylight by Vanessa's matter of fact tone. She sat next to Catriona, composed and elegant as was her habit and delicately picking the piece of cake on her with her fork. Sir Malcom appeared to have frozen, looking at her wide eyes whilst Ethan Chandler held his cutlery hard enough to turn his knuckles white and make his tendons surface beneath the skin.

"Did he harm you?"

"He attempted to."

Catriona picked the moment to provide her analysis.

"It would appear as if he attempted to feed himself off Miss Ives and fled once she was awoken. It is quite unlike any vampires' behavior I am familiar with. Miss Ives was incredibly lucky for most creatures will go through with their kill."

"Why would Dracula do such a thing?"

"That, Sir Malcom, Is the key of the matter."

There was an uneasy silence as the men retreated into their thoughts. The implications the events held were far reaching, too little time had passed since they had saved Vanessa from Dracula and the events were still fresh in their mind. Catriona's jaw tensed at the thought. Beneath her calm, posed appearance her mind was racing as the memories of the battle seeped into her thoughts. She remembered little, truth to be told. The slaughter that had gone on in the warehouse had left little impression in her soul for she had done too much butchering in the past to care about the vampires her knife was being plunged into, what she clearly remembered was Ethan appearing at the top of the tower, holding Vanessa's limp body in his hands and the bloodstain that spread steadily across the woman's chest. She remembered feeling a stab of pain in the heart then waiting for Ethan to come down before rushing to the woman. She remembered how cold Vanessa had been, she remembered thinking she was dead, then Victor Frankenstein dropping to his knees next to her as the vampires scattered away. He had taken her pulse, felt for her breath and she remembered her heart dropping when he shook his head. She had wanted to cry, find Dracula and kill him, rip him to pieces. Then a soft sigh, almost inaudible and a flutter of eyelids. Months after, Catriona still felt herself shiver when thinking about how close to death Vanessa had been. She couldn't afford it to happen again, once was enough.

"What do we now?"

"We find the creature. Then we find Dracula, kill him and put an end to this madness."

Ethan Chandler's gaze was still lost in thin air as he spoke but there was a hard edge to his voice, an ice-cold determination in his dark eyes.

"It would be like searching for a needle in a haystack Mr. Chandler. Vampires are elusive creatures, once their hideout is discovered they scatter like rats and find a new location to settle in. They could be anywhere in London."

"Then what do you propose we do Miss Hartdegen?"

"We protect ourselves and Miss Ives above all else and wait for them to come once more. When they do, we'll be sure to take as much out of them as possible."

"This is preposterous! We will not stay here like sitting ducks"

Sir Malcom had stood up toppling his chair and slamming his fist down on the table, fear turning to anger. Vanessa could see the vein in his neck pulsing dangerously and his muscles tensing.

"Sir Malcom please settle down. Miss Hartdegen and myself have discussed this lengthily. The creature left no trace, we lack any trail that could lead us to him. Attempting to locate their settlement would be not only a futile waste of time, but could make us more vulnerable. We are no longer trying to find Mina. This is a matter of protecting ourselves from a powerful enemy."

Her voice was calm, low as usual and its tone left the man with the certainty she wouldn't accept protests or arguments against her.

"Meanwhile Miss Hartdegen and I will conduct an in depth research on Dracula. The more knowledge we acquire about our enemy the more vulnerable he becomes."

She had stood up softly, dominating the rest of the table with that mysterious demeanor that characterized her as she placed both hands on the table delicately. She radiated power in despite of her frail appearance and there was something distinctly supernatural about her aura, as if the woman didn't quite belong to their world. And perhaps she didn't indeed. from the snippets of her past Catriona had been able to gather, the supernatural was an integral part of Vanessa and she was an integral part of the Supernatural fitting together like pieces of a puzzle created in the dawn of time.

"Very well."

"Now if you'll excuse me gentlemen. I believe I have plans to attend to for today. Good day."

She disappeared upstairs into her room, leaving behind Sir Malcom, Mr. Chandler and Catriona to finish their breakfast in a tense silence. The clatter of cutlery and the sips of tea filled the air but not a single word was spoken. She could feel Ethan Chandler's eyes on her, burning a hole through her very soul, wondering how Vanessa could have put her very trust into the hands of this woman she hardly knew. Before long Sir Malcom had gone about his day and Catriona followed suit, only to be grabbed by the arm.

"She came to you tonight."

Without turning around, she could visualize Ethan Chandler. His frown, the tensions in his jaw and the effort he put into maintaining control.

"She did."

He spun her around softly and she didn't resist.

"Now you listen me. I don't know who you are or how you've become part of this group and I don't care. You leave Miss Ives to the people who love her, to those who can handle her."

His voice was a low growl intended to intimidate her but the woman remained unfazed and stared at him coolly.

"Mr. Chandler, whilst I understand your position, I must assure you that I care about Miss Ives as much as Sir Malcom or yourself, in fact perhaps even more so. I mean her no arm, on the contrary I intend well. She is a remarkable woman and it would be a severe loss to let Dracula have her. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some research to carry out."

She walked past him without waiting for a reply, leaving Ethan gritting his teeth. Who was that woman Mr. Lyle had recommended? With her unsettling appearance blending male clothes and feminine grace and that peculiar mannerism he couldn't place. And most importantly why did Vanessa trust her so?

"I must warn you Vanessa, this isn't going to be a pleasant process."

Catriona paced around the studio. Her footsteps clicked softly against the wooden floorboards, then halted as she stopped to peak outside at London's busy streets. People walked, talked, rushed past one another going about their daily chores, buying bread, emptying chamber pots. Such vulgarity in every day life, such absence of beauty and cleanliness!

"I didn't expect it to be, Dr. Seward."

Catriona stood still and rigid listening to the conversation. She longed to leave the room and the stern gaze of the doctor but Vanessa had been clear in demanding her assistance both physical and psychological if needed.

"Shall I remind you what happened last time you asked me to be hypnotized Vanessa? You stayed in a trance, trapped between both worlds to the point where I was scared you might stay there an unlimited amount of time. The risk is still present, are you certain you want to go through with it?"

Vanessa nodded then closed her eyes. She focused on the regular tapping of the recording machine, on the soft rhythmic breathing of the women around her. Catriona's was shallower, more rapid, sounding softly behind her in some unidentified corner of the room whilst Dr. Seward's was deeper, slower, almost matching her own. She drifted away, into the British museum. She felt strong arms wrapped around her waist and a not entirely unpleasant sting in the side of her neck accompanied the feeling of warm lips against her skin. Alexander Sweet. Dracula. He pulled away and a crimson liquid smeared his lips as he smiled at her.

"Give me your flesh. Give me your blood. Be my bride. And then all light will end and the world will live in darkness. The very air will be pestilence to mankind. And then our brethren, the Night Creatures, will emerge and feed. Such is our power, such is our kingdom, such is my kiss."

He breathed out, holding out his hand. She took it. She was tiered, so tiered of having to fight against him, she couldn't win, her God had abandoned her, Ethan Chandler and Sir Malcom had gone the same way and even the dear Dr. Frankenstein had split paths from her; Dr. Seward and Catriona were all she ha left and yet she couldn't rely on the doctor to protect her and Catriona…well Catriona was a Terra incognita and as such was a potentially dangerous territory to venture into. She couldn't fight anymore, she was exhausted, exhausted of having to be what she was not, of fighting one side of evil only to see its counterpart attack her once more. She couldn't escape for he would find her hidden in the deepest, most remote corner of the Earth if he had to and drag her to hell with him. Dracula didn't seek to change her. Caving meant being finally free of the prophecy, it meant ending the endless torments being the Mother of Evil had plagued her with. So she had given himself up to him. The setting changed, she was in an old slaughter house perched against a balustrade looking down at the filthy floor beneath. The sound of ripping flesh was nauseating as the creatures fed, ripping chunks off the carcass of a woman hooked on one of the numerous hooks dropping from the ceiling. The scene changed again, this time she was in the tower, dimly lit with a circle of candles burning at her feet. She remembered this well. She heard the gunshots coming from below in the slaughterhouse, then the door slammed open as Ethan came in. Their speech, the cold metal of the gun barrel being pressed just beneath her left breast. The prayer, the kiss. She didn't pay much attention to it, it wasn't what she sought to remember. The gunshot, pain spreading in her body, Ethan catching her before she could fall to the ground. She lived the moment again. Darkness was rapidly falling on her, Ethan's visage was becoming blurred and fading into it until she couldn't see him anymore. God stared down at her, that much she could still distinguish and her lips moved to form a quiet exclamation.

"Ethan…I see…our Lord"

Everything plunged into darkness then and even the pain that had been ravaging her insides appeared to numb down as her body became limp and as heavy as led, forcing her head to loll down to a side. After that things were hazy, she vaguely felt herself being moved, the frequent shocks racking her as Ethan went down the stairs, then the distant coldness of the ground beneath her as she was laid out on the filthy floor. Breaths inching closer, a scattering of people in the distance, metal being pressed to her chest. Catriona was the next vivid thing she remembered: soft hands taking hers, then lithe arms lifting up her torso softly, supporting part of that unbearable weight baring down on her. Something had wretched her away from death, she had taken a weak breath. Everything burned, she felt weak and breathing was difficult, her eyelids were heavy, her sight blurred as it fixed on the people standing over her. She struggled to stay conscious. Then the detail she longed for: Two men standing in the distance: Dracula himself. For a moment she attributed the double sighting as being part of her poorly functioning eyesight but there really were two of them. One had pitch black eyes. The devil. She fainted again.

She was projected away for the slaughterhouse and into the studio where the recording machine was still tapping softly. Catriona was sitting next to her looking worried and Dr. Seward had the worn out look of someone who had tried to snap her awake for some time without results.

"Are you all right Van? You looked like you were in pain?"

Asked the redhead, resting a pale hand on her shoulder.

"He was there. At the Slaughterhouse, he was there. The devil."

She stood up abruptly, snatching her coat form the back of the chair she had been sat on.

Catriona watched as the woman headed for the door, then stopped and turned around.

"Dr. Seward, thank you for your assistance, it was highly useful."

"You are welcome Miss Ives"

And just like that Vanessa Ives had gone, disappeared without a trace and headed somewhere only she knew leaving the two other women to share a moment of uneasy silence. Not that they didn't know each other, in fact they had met in previous occasions, when the search for Vanessa had begun, but without the group itself to make a conversation, they fell short of subjects to discuss.

"What did you do to our Miss Ives, if you don't mind me inquiring so? I found the process rather fascinating"

Catriona broke the silence `without so much as glancing at the doctor, preferring instead to keep her gaze fixed on the people passing by the street beneath the studio.

"I hypnotized her. It's a relatively new therapy. You see, our mind is a wonderful thing and it happens that to recover from shock or grief it removes certain traumatic events. Hypnosis can recover those elements."

"I believe some elements of the past are better left forgotten."

"So is my view and I have warned Miss Ives multiple times, but as I am sure you know, she can be extremely strong willed."

"that she can be."

Dr. Seward looked at her for along instant, assessing her, seeking explanations and interpretations in the woman's stance, clues as to her role in this series of unfortunate events.

"You care for her. Deeply. Yet you have met Miss Ives only recently. Your relations ship is somewhat unclear, there are may mysteries regarding both of you yet your blindly trust one another."

Catriona stiffened.

"She is a fascinating woman. I was merely recommended to her by a mutual acquaintance, I'm a thanatologist you see and my services were believed to be of help to Miss Ives's causes."

"She is complex. As a doctor I must say she is a fascinating case. But I won't bore you further with the details. I'm certain you have matters to attend do."


	3. Chapter 3

"Miss Hartdegen a word."

Sir Malcom's stance was relaxed as he approached her. He was in many ways a complicated character and his multiplicity left Catriona unsure as to whether she found him to be pleasant or not.

"Yes, Sir Malcom."

"I understand you are very much part of this company Miss Hartdegen and a valuable member at that, I merely wished to divulge certain details about this unpleasant matter."

Beneath her poised calmness Catriona was on edge. She longed to hear more about Vanessa's past and motives yet it felt like a betrayal to have it come from someone other than the woman herself.

"You see Miss Hartdegen, Vanessa has much more to her than meets the eye."

"That there is"

Sir Malcom gestured towards a chair in a clear invitation to sit down, but Catriona ignored it.

"I believe you know Mr. Lyle"

"I do."

"Very well, Mr. Lyle believes Vanessa to be a reincarnation of Amunet. We've looked extensively in its prophecy and the verbis diablo."

"Amunt and Amun Rha have never been shown together. Their union would lead to catastrophe"

Sir Malcom nodded.

"Indeed. Dracula and The devil have been searching her since her youngest years. As you well know, Dracula succeeded. The devil did not. Vanessa battled him and won."

That she hadn't known.

"How long has he been after her?"

"Years. You see, the devil within manifests on occasion, sporadically. The last one was just a few months ago, before you joined our group of misfits, it left her drained and one the verge of death. It was only thanks to Mr. Chandler that we were able to save her."

Catriona furrowed her eyebrows, intrigued and vaguely worried by the statement as the certainty that the information divulged was connected to Vanessa's abrupt ending of their intimacy that morning downed on her.

"What are they due to?"

"We do not know with certainty. Dr. Frankenstein thinks it might be related with…well…intimacy of some sorts, physical in particular."

"Due to trauma?"

Sir Malcom had grown uncomfortable, his eyes darted away form Catriona's as he searched for an escape.

"We cannot know for sure. I'm afraid Vanessa is the only one to hold the answer, but as you can see, she is not one to unravel her secrets easily."

Catriona remained silent for a moment, absorbing the information.

"Thank you Sir Malcom, for the insight. I will do my best to protect Miss Ives and put my skills to use."

She left him. She wanted to find Vanessa to discuss the sessions with Dr. Seward. She headed towards her bedroom only to find it empty, as was the library and the studio. Vanessa seemed to have all but disappeared from the household. There were a few places Catriona could think of that may have attracted Vanessa's attention and yet she couldn't narrow them down. Perhaps she had sought solace in the underground tunnels where charities offered food to the poor, or perhaps she had gone to the British Museum. Regardless, danger lurked in both places. Dracula was not one to attack directly bur rather a seducer, one to stalk its prey and Vanessa was an easy target if alone.

She went outside. The noise in the street was deafening, a blurred mass of hooves on cobblestones, shouts and chatter, sellers advertising their merchandise to attract clients and the indistinct laughs of children chasing each other, putting their lives at risk by passing just a little too close to the horses' hooves. London was far from clean and the stench of unwashed bodies and emptied chamber pots hung thick in the air as she made her way between the crowd huddled in thick clothing to battle the bitter cold. It had ceased to snow and the snow had turned to a grey mush beneath her boots, robbing the purity the previous night's spectacle had held and replacing it with a pathetic, corrupt shadow of itself. She headed toward the undergrounds first only to find there was no soup of food being handed out that day and was met instead with untrusting gazes. She tried the British Museum next. It was almost empty at that time of day, so close to Christmas people had better things to do than to admire stuffed animals and bizarre creatures trapped in glass jars, floating in some unspecified yellowish liquid. She had been here only once before, with Mr. Lyle, in the search for a particularly rare relic for one of her studies and the enormity of the complex never ceased to intimidate her.

She noticed the elegant, dark figure of Vanessa Ives out of the corner of her eye and approached her, catlike as was her fashion, pushing aside the desire to take the woman's pale hand in her own.

"Is it not fascinating? Out of all the creatures displayed behind this glass, with their claws and impressively sized stingers, the deadliest scorpion of all is the smallest."

Catriona followed Vanessa's clear gaze across the display, resting on each of the scorpions as big as a fist only to reach one that would hang comfortably in the palm of her hand. A frail looking white little creature that could be crushed in the blink of an eye.

"Aren't all the deadliest things the most innocent looking?"

A smile tugged at the corners of Vanessa's lips at her words before she focused her attention on Catriona.

"I suppose you wish to discuss the session with Dr. Seward?"

"I do. What did you see? What did you want to see?"

Vanessa detached herself from the glass display and made her way along the corridor, in an implicit call for Catriona to walk with her.

"This is not the place to talk."

"Does one exist at all?"

"Some are safer than others. You see Catriona, this is where I first met Dracula. If one place is unsafe above others, it is this one"

There was a faint hint of pain in her voice, as if she longed for the relationship she had had with Dr. Alexander Sweet before he revealed his true identity. The betrayal had torn her apart, that much she had sensed. Dark corridors ensued form well lit ones as the two women walked through the labyrinth of displays and furniture down to the lowest floors, to the archives. Vanessa had a goal in mind as she entered the archives. The smell of mold and stale air hung thick in the air and spiders had made themselves at home in the stone corners, decorating the room with their intricate webs dangling from the ceiling. If anything, the archives seemed even more unsafe than the museum itself but curiosity had the better of Catriona as she followed with inquisitive eyes Vanessa's sharp, expert movements. The woman's fingers brushed across the containers stacked against the walls or on wooden shelves, then settled on a specific one. The box itself was unremarkably small but as Vanessa settled it on a table and extracted its content, Catriona quickly realized it was more than they had bargained for.

"The Verbis Diablo. The only written testimony of it. Mr. Lyle brought it in the light of day some months ago."

"The Devil's tongue. It is said to be a dead language."

"It was used in London. It still is"

"And you know it?"

Vanessa paused.

"Instinctively, yes. Under the right circumstances I can both speak it and understand it."

"Under the right circumstances?"

Vanessa's eyes seemed to shine with a dangerous sparkle in the semi-darkness of the room.

"I'm sure you know the story behind the relics?"

"Brother Gregory believed to be possessed by the demon, when he spoke to him, he wrote down his sayings on whichever objects he could find. His fellow monks burned him at the stake."

"Indeed. You see, when in contact with the devil or his servants, the Verbis Diablo comes naturally but once his influence is removed it becomes indecipherable."

Catriona picked up one of the relics, staring at the words engraved in it: a mixture of Latin, Greek and Arabic she lacked the skills to decipher.

"Sir Malcom mentioned something this morning, about your occasional illnesses. He referred to the prophecy."

"Yes. They are closely linked. The Prophecy was etched into these relics and I believe the key to the brothers' defeat is here, hidden somewhere amongst these words."

Catriona's brows furrowed.

"Killing Dracula is a seemingly simple task Vanessa. Any weapon, weather be it a dagger, a gun…even bashing his head in would do nicely. He is mortal in his human form like you and I, no more no less."

"Indeed. But not his brother. You see, I had thought I had beaten the devil. With Dr. Seward I realized I did not. He was present at the slaughterhouse hidden amongst the chaos and death. Whether he rose from the dead…if dead is an appropriate term for a creature such as him…or he never was defeated I do not know. But the danger is now higher than it has ever been for both will come for me, each more desperate than before."

Or was it a danger? The solution lied perhaps in the problem itself. The brothers were in competition, each scrambling to get Vanessa before the other. Desperation meant cruelty and ruthlessness, each aimed at the other. They would destroy one another.

"Perhaps not. If both seek the same redemption they will destroy each other in the process."

"Yes but how many will perish in the process? How many innocent people have to be killed for me to be free? Mina died because of me, as did Sembene and Joan Clayton. How long before Mr. Chandler, Sir Malcom…even you, die too?"

The woman was clutching the table's edge so hard her knuckles had turned white. The distress was evident as was the guilt she carried with her.

"No one is innocent. Innocence is a fragment of our imagination. Everyone has his secrets, his sins. This is war Vanessa and like in each war there will be victims. It is inevitable. God has a plan for you or else he wouldn't have given you the powers you have. You are our only chance of ending terror. You have to power to do what no one else can, the side effects matter little."

Catriona had done her fair share of butchering over the years, she was no stranger to the cruelty of homicide nor to the devastation that war and battle brought along and she despised them above all else, yet she knew them to be inevitable for such was human nature. If God had indeed created humans to his image, then he had done so poorly. They were cruel creatures, belligerent enough to slaughter one another mercilessly, enjoying the mass destruction with little care for the consequences.

"That does not advocate for the death of loved ones."

"We may be the first to fall on that battlefield. But if we do Vanessa, nothing will change, evil will lurk, waiting for the next chosen woman to fulfill the prophecy. It will not end with your death nor with your inaction. The only way to end all this is for you to fight and win. Those of us who care for you will help you. You won't be alone. Our death will be justified for a greater purpose."

For a moment, Vanessa looked tempted to seek contact and move into Catriona's arms but she resisted the impulse and shook her head softly as if chasing away the thought that had clouded her reason. The discussion was closed.

"Very well. There is yet another element I wished for you to see and the reason I brought you here, aside from the fact of course, that this place is relatively safe in comparison."

She showed her a skull with engravings etched into the bone.

"Lupus dei."

Catriona muttered beneath her breath

"Indeed. The one who can defeat the devil and destroy Dracula."

"Is he amongst us?"

Vanessa hesitated. Ethan Chandler's condition wasn't to be exposed lightly.

"He is, but I fear his soul is more easily corrupted than I initially thought."

It pained her to admit so, but Ethan Chandler's involvement with Hecate Poole was enough proof in itself. Sir Malcom had told her as to the events that had unfolded during their stay in America and the mere fact that he had succumbed to her charms placed his faith at danger.

"Do you believe he may become a danger? Or do you hope he may come to his senses and help us?"

"That I do not know. The Lupus Dei is our only weapon and has to be treated with carefulness."

A thoughtful silence fell between them. It was a contorted matter and the more Catriona came to understand of it, the more complex and dangerous the intrigue became. Vanessa herself was a complicated yet essential piece of the puzzle and perhaps would be best if left alone, for her safety and that of Catriona, but the urge to help her was stronger than the fear. Her hand found Vanessa's on the dusty table, creeping on it slowly as if fearing she might remove it, then covering it softly, marveling at its almost inhuman coldness.

"Vanessa …Sir Malcom…he said your illness are triggered by intimacy…he believes due to trauma, or so he and Dr. Frankenstein have speculated. Has anyone ever…harmed you …in any way?"

The question was spoken carefully, as Vanessa's eyes remained downcast onto the remarkably perfect fit of their entwined fingers. Catriona's fingers gently stroked the soft flesh beneath, perhaps in an attempt to relax the underlying muscles which had seemed to grow stiff at the question.

"Not in the way you believe Catriona. You see-"

"You don't have to tell me. Not if you aren't willing or ready to"

The redhead allowed her hands to trace a feathered past up the woman's shoulder and stepped just a little closer.

"But whatever happened to you Vanessa, won't happen again. I promise I won't let it occur again."

"You don't have to do this Catriona. You can walk away unharmed you still have time. This world of mine is cursed. I'm cursed. I bring ill to the people around me."

A light sob caught in her throat as the despair she had repelled until then tore loose. She had truly believed at least one of her pursuers had been defeated…she had truly believed she had a shot at ending her suffering once and for all …and now everything came tumbling down, all her certainties, all she had ever known and believed.

"I've made my choice. I love you Vanessa, I truly do, and I'm willing to do whatever it takes for you to be free."

"You, Catriona, are truly mad"

Catriona smiled at the statement. She wasn't mad, quite simply the thought of backing away from a fight and leaving someone she cared so strongly about alone to face off her enemies was unconceivable. Surprisingly, her decision had nothing to do with the inevitable doom earth and humanity was bound to face in the event of Vanessa giving in to the fallen angel and his brother again. She had gone through one apocalypse and lived to tell the tale and another one would make little difference, instead she found herself truly incapable of leaving Vanessa's side. The woman had cast a gentle, sweet spell over her that she couldn't and wouldn't break so pleasant was its effect.

"Perhaps I am. That makes two of us does it not? No sane person would pursue a relationship such as ours knowing its risks and yet we do, without allowing society's views to affect it."

A small smile ghosted on Vanessa's lips, drying the tears that were streaking her hollowed cheeks whilst leaving but a few hanging on to her long eyelashes, like morning dew on blades of grass.

"Allow me to take you back home Vanessa. Resting will do you good, its been an intense morning."

Vanessa followed her like a duckling follows his mother, allowing Catriona's strong arms to support her after a tiered heaviness had taken hold of her body.


	4. Chapter 4

The pleasant burn of whiskey sliding down her throat did little to distract Catriona from her task. She sat on the arm of the couch, leaning with her forearms on her knees and the deeply thoughtful expression of someone who has had a lot to take in. Sir Malcom's home felt empty without Ethan Chandler or Sir Malcom himself to fill it and a palpable somberness lingered in the air, a reminder that even there, darkness could reach them and overpower them. It had done it before and it could do it again, no place in London was safe for them yet fleeing was not an option. The devil and his brother would find Vanessa anywhere, they would haunt her down around the world it if meant they could win their battle and fulfill the prophecy. She was so caught up in her whirlwind of thoughts that she failed to hear the soft creaking of the door and the clumsy footsteps resonating on the floor.

"You seem deep in thought Miss Hartdegen, and here I thought you were a woman of action."

A smile lit up her features as she recognized Ferdinand Lyle. The Egyptologist embraced her with affection.

"You are back!"

"I am indeed. Rumors reached me that it was relatively safe to come back. Besides, the excavations in Egypt have met their end."

Mr. Lyle had hardly change in appearance, the African sun had left his pale complexion unblemished and his peculiar hairdo was just as spotless as it had been before his departure (how much time had passed since he had left? Catriona wouldn't be able to tell. It felt like years.) and yet a drastic change had occurred in his stance. It wasn't something people would notice, not unless they were used to analyzing individuals closely, but its impact was evident in a way Catriona wouldn't have been able to describe. There was a different spark in his eyes and a new joviality to his mannerism that she wouldn't have expect from someone coming back from a lengthy trip overseas and especially not from someone as unfit for adventure as the Egyptologist.

"How have you been?"

"Egypt is …interesting. We may have uncovered some important artifacts which I believe are being shipped to London as we speak. But tell me about you, Miss Hartdegen. I have tried to contact Miss Ives and yourself multiple times but I'm afraid my letters failed to arrive."

For a moment, Catriona pondered the question and the answer she would give. If part of her felt that Mr. Lyle was entitled to know the events of the last few months and the latest developments in the matter of Vanessa, she also believed it wasn't her role to tell him. That belonged to Vanessa.

"A lot has happened since you went away Ferdinand but we shall discuss that once Vanessa joins us. Meanwhile, if you'll sit down I'll offer you a drink."

She poured whiskey into a glass and handed it to him as he settled into the comfort of the couch. The air around them was filled with questions but neither dared to voice them out loud. Both had changed since the last time they had met, that much was clear and perhaps neither party wished to uncover the new version of the other for fear of what one might find.

"How is dear Miss Ives?"

"On her way to a full recovery. These have been hard times for her."

It was a game of delicate balance where words and tones where thoroughly pondered and each movement scrutinized. There was no hostility between them instead that shy awkwardness of long lost friends reuniting hung thick in the room. Too much was left unspoken for it to be any different. A subtle fragrance slithered in the room and immediately, Catriona felt the atmosphere change as Vanessa entered the room with that mysterious elegance that captivated her interlocutors. She was happy and a genuine smile (they had become so rare in recent times) illuminated her visage as she approached Mr. Lyle and embraced him.

"My dear Mr. Lyle, it's a pleasure to see you."

"Likewise Miss Ives."

Vanessa settled in a chair next to Catriona, sitting with formal ease as her eyes flashed for a brief moment to meet the redhead's almost as if asking permission to continue or to find reassurance.

"You come in times of need Mr. Lyle, there are important matters to address."

Catriona's protective stance didn't escape the man's attention. The thanatologist had moved closer to Vanessa and stood beside her with her arms crossed over her chest and the unknowingly stern expression of someone ready to counter the slightest sign of danger. He had known Catriona for years and was deeply aware of how protective she became of those she cared for but there was an underlying amorous vibe to the duo that few people could have picked on, had they not been themselves subject to such feelings. Perhaps the thanatologist's initial coldness was born out of apprehension and secrecy at having to maintain certain standards of decency when around other people, after all, no one better than Ferdinand Lyle knew just how harsh the treatment towards immoral individuals was. _Immoral_. Whenever he thought about the word he would pronounce it with a mocking scoff. There was nothing immoral about love, nothing perverse or obscure about the multiple ways in which it manifested itself and sooner or later society would have to accept it. It would be a long time before it happened, he feared.

"After you left, I was in a dark place Mr. Lyle, one from which I couldn't escape and so I gave in and surrendered to Dracula. You better than anyone know the consequences such actions would prompt. Our friends succeeded in bringing the light back into our world but alas, both the Devil and his brother still roam London."

Even Mr. Lyle, with his extensive knowledge of the prophecy tying Vanessa to evil, couldn't hide his surprise at her words.

"The lupus Dei should have beaten both brothers."

"The Lupus Dei may not be a reliable resource."

Mr. Lyle's expression darkened but kept its questioning quality, as if he pained to believe her words. Prophecies were hardly ever wrong, it fact he had never come across as flawed one and the complications of the Lupus Dei being corrupted were far reaching, not to mention disastrous.

"If so, Miss Ives it is essential that you rely on the darkness within to win."

It was the woman's turn to look shocked.

"Pardon me?"

"You were touched by the devil Miss Ives, it is like being touched by the backhand of God. It gives you power, makes you special. In choosing you, the devil and his brother tied their fates with yours. It's a dangerous game, it gives power to the chosen one. You can use that against them."

There was an undeniable truth to Mr. Lyle's words but Vanessa's body language indicated a deep discomfort at the idea of collaborating with whatever obscure force inhabited the depths of her soul. The demon within frightened her beyond what she was willing to admit, it had an almost almighty control over her when it surfaced and she feared what it might do if she were to let it take over.

"Whilst I understand your perspective Mr. Lyle, I would rather avoid bringing out that side of me. Its too unpredictable. There could be devastating consequences."

"Whatever consequences there might be, they won't be as devastating as those that Dracula or the Devil's reign will bring upon us. I don't think there is much of a choice Miss Ives."

Catriona edged closer to Vanessa and rested a hand on her back in a mixture of protection and reassurance that subtly exposed what they felt for each other. Lyle noticed but kept quiet. It wasn't his business, there were more pressing matters.

"What if I loose control?"

"You won't."

As he said so, his eyes met Catriona's and the fencer was overcome with the feeling that the situation they had found themselves in had been predicted years before it ever occurred. The certainty with which Ferdinand Lyle spoke could only be caused by the confidence of already knowing how the story unfolds. A story he was keeping to himself for the time being. Both women fell quiet, understanding that the statement wasn't open for discussion.

"Very well. Its been a pleasure to speak with you Mr. Lyle but I'm afraid I have a commitment elsewhere and I'm already late. Please, stay for dinner tonight, Sir Malcom and Mr. Chandler will be pleased to see you."

"Thank you Miss Ives. Take care."

Catriona followed Vanessa as she walked to the door and it wasn't until the dull clicking of the door closing echoed in the living room that she brought her attention back to the Egyptologist.

"Be careful Catriona. These are some dark times for people like us."

"These are dark times for everybody I'm afraid."

Defensive. Perhaps her own feelings posed as much of a puzzlement for Catriona as they did for most of British society.

"You understand what I mean. Tread carefully, be discrete. It would be a pity if you were to end up humiliated and cast aside as I was."

Evelyne Poole had been clever in forcing him away and severing his ties with the British high class. Society wasn't kind to the so called deviants and having one's "condition" (the term was always spoken coldly, as if diagnosing an illness) exposed was a condemnation. Egypt had been much more understanding of his lifestyle, as paradoxical as it seemed.

"I'm quite aware of the dangers Ferdinand."

She knew. Vanessa knew. It was the elephant in the room whenever they were together, the sword looming over their necks whenever a chaste kiss was shared and the concrete wall that prevented them from being close when walking down London's streets. There was no place for them in the modern world.

"I'm sure you are. All I'm saying Is be cautious."

Before long the conversation had dropped and the little man excused himself for the afternoon and Catriona was left once more alone with her thoughts. She wasn't one to be scared off easily. She had always embraced change and never backed away from a challenge yet something about her feelings for Vanessa was much more daunting than having to slay dark creatures of make her way in a patriarchal society. There was a stark difference between taking the risk out of one's own accord and being in danger because of one's nature and it was this very difference that frightened her. Even in this very house, they wouldn't be able to escape or protect themselves from Ethan Chandler's comments if he were to find out, or from Sir Malcom's disappointment and the alternative of being segregated from their company in these times of need was just as terrifying. Their only protection was lying low and fooling others but such measures were painful for both women who being both outspoken and determined, failed to appreciate the self-imposed censorship their relationship required. With a sigh of frustration, Catriona emptied her glass of whiskey.

Things with Vanessa always had a way of working out. They just had to wait and see.


	5. Chapter 5

Vanessa was worryingly silent as she stepped out of the bathroom, using a towel to dry her damp hair as she walked towards the edge of the bed. The men were still downstairs, chatting amicably with Mr. Lyle as they drank a particularly exotic beverage the Egyptologist had brought back from his trip oversees. The woman could hear their laughter echo between the walls. Not that it bothered her, she was content with their beloved friend being back and even happier with his now confirmed permanence in Sir Malcom's home.

"A penny for your thoughts Vanessa?"

Catriona followed her around the room with worried eyes, noticing the heaviness that seemed to weight down on the raven haired beauty. Her mood had deteriorated during dinner, when the conversation had shifted from Mr. Lyle's adventures to the steps to be taken in order to defeat the evilness that still roamed London. Sir Malcom had enquired further into the matter and the details the Egyptologist had revealed had spoiled Vanessa's mood noticeably. She had been aware of the fact that her own demons were the only ones capable of defeating the devil, but to have such a scenario repeatedly described had hammered its inevitability into her conscience and soured an otherwise pleasant evening.

"I'm quite all right Catriona."

The red haired fencer caught her wrist gently and pulled her close. Had it been anyone else, the height difference stemming from the fact that Catriona was sat on the edge of the bed and Vanessa was standing would have tricked people into thinking Catriona lacked control of the situation, but such illusions couldn't be any further away from reality. There was no opposition, no protest.

"Pardon me if I contradict you. In my very humble opinion, Mr. Lyle's words have had quite the impact on you. You're fearful yet you understand the importance of your role in defeating evil and such a stark contrast is tearing you apart."

An almost amused smile tugged at Vanessa's lips.

"You and Dr. Seward would make quite the pair. If you psychoanalyze me after just a few minutes spent with her I dare not imagine what will happen when she will assist us in our mission."

"She has some fascinating ideas. Now back to the topic at hand if you please."

Vanessa sighed.

"Whenever my demons are let free terrible things occur both to others and to myself. I've come close to death once before and it was only the good will of Sir Malcom, Dr. Frankenstein and Mr. Chandler that saved me. If I am being entirely honest, I would prefer to avoid such illness."

Catriona pressed a gentle kiss to the palm of Vanessa's hand before replying.

"Remember the promise I made?"

"You told me that whatever happened to me you wouldn't let it happen again."

"Exactly. I won't let you become ill again. You will be able to control your demon at your will without him succeeding in harming you."

Vanessa kept her skepticism quiet. Catriona's intentions filled her heart with love and happiness but she was no fool, she knew there was nothing the woman could do to control her darkness. Nonetheless, if she had to give in to the demon inside, she would rather do so with Catriona watching over her than alone. Perhaps love and trust could help, who knew, sometimes emotions and intentions were more powerful than one would think.

"Besides Vanessa, this is a last resort idea. If Dracula and the Devil destroy one another as they try to reach you like we believe they will, it won't be necessary for you to given in to the demon within."

It was a fair observation and portrayed a situation that Vanessa hoped would become reality, but she was aware that she had to be prepared for any scenario possible. Her eyes fell on Catriona. Loyal, protective Catriona who had been dragged into this complex tangle of supernatural threads without her presence ever having been planned out. Vanessa wished the thanatologist would walk away and carry on with her life unblemished by the constant danger that surrounded the blue eyed woman. She found herself nibbling on her lower lip as reason and emotion battled within her, then, overcome by the latter, she leaned in to kiss the woman. For a moment Vanessa wondered if she would ever stop hesitating, if she would ever be able to love Catriona without society's condemning opinion constantly roaming at the back of her mind. But it was only for a moment, soon the doubts dissipated and were replaced by the unmistakable knowledge that the feelings they held for each other were exactly what they were meant to be. Vanessa had no doubts that the complicity and safety she felt with Catriona she wouldn't feel with any other individual and it was perhaps for this very reason that she had felt compelled to initiate the embrace. It was Catriona who parted first, pulling away gently as if surprised by the sudden initiative. It wasn't for lack of enjoyment but rather for fear that Vanessa might be pushing her own boundaries simply to please her companion.

"Vanessa I don't want to rush you into-"

"You are not rushing me into anything."

Determination sparkled in Vanessa's clear eyes and the sight eased Catriona's mind as the embrace was resumed, just as tender as before but with renewed intensity. Danger lurked around the corner and Vanessa was perfectly aware of it as the apprehension slithered into her conscience, but she pushed it to a side focusing instead on the pleasant feeling of delicate hands running along her sides, lingering there as if waiting to pursue further goals. It was hard to tell who broke the hesitant impasse they had come to, if it was Vanessa who had gently coaxed the red haired woman into lying down or if it was Catriona who had pulled the daywalker closer and yet they found themselves heading down a path both wanted and feared equally. It was a delicate game of advance and retreat that allowed for no mistakes. Stakes were high and yet the pressure that should have downed on them was hardly felt, replaced instead by a mutual sense of belonging and tenderness that felt somewhat foreign to Vanessa. There was a bizarre paradox in being so intimate with a woman whereby Catriona's features seemed so familiar and yet so different. There had been other occasions, stolen kisses between Vanessa and Mina when they were both too young to comprehend their meaning but the two experiences were impossible to compare. She found herself drawing the contours of the fencer's shoulders and arms marveling at the graceful power concealed beneath pale skin, then dipping lower to her taut stomach. Years of fencing very evident on Catriona's slender physique and for a moment Vanessa couldn't help but admire the result. She had expected the thanatologist to seek control but nothing of the sort occurred, instead Catriona stood still allowing her to determine the pace at which things progressed and taking care in reminding her that they could stop at any moment. There were characteristics Vanessa had come to think of as inextricably related to sex: it wasn't usually a gentle act nor were genuine feelings ever involved. It had always been purely physical, something tainted and dangerous that she would be compelled to engage in when the demon within became too insistent rather than as a demonstration of love and trust. None of these convictions applied to Catriona and she found herself surprised by the gentleness of her touch and the carefulness with which the woman treated her. Of course, she could feel the demon scratching his way to the surface but the creature seemed meeker than in other instances as if somehow its powers had been diluted. Worry inevitably surfaced as the memories of previous possessions came to mind and Catriona noticed the slight wavering in Vanessa's confidence.

"Do you want to stop?"

"No. It's quite all right."

The demon was timid and crept without certainty in her soul. This wasn't the destructive, violent entity Vanessa was used to, though his presence alone was evidence that she was still somewhat under the influence of the devil. Nonetheless, she kept her guard afraid this apparent weakness might be nothing but a clever ruse to coax her into relaxing and inviting him in.

"You're in control Vanessa. He can't own you."

The mantra was underlines with gentle kisses that jerked the brunette's anxious mind away from the presence within her and back into the present.

They lay next to each other after, sleepy and content as they pulled the blankets over themselves. For the first time, Vanessa was herself. The darkness hadn't consumed her nor had it escalated like it had done so many times before. Whether it had been Catriona's soothing whispers or her own willpower she didn't know but it had worked and she felt overwhelmed by a sense of happiness and victory that drew a broad smile over her lips.

"You're you."

Catriona's statement contained both satisfaction and surprise.

"Yes I am me."

The implications were far reaching. Some degree of control had been achieved and that knowledge opened up endless possibilities to be explored carefully. They stood a chance against Dracula and whilst the path to a controlled, planned symbiosis between demon and human was still distant, the first step in the right direction had been taken. Of course, there was a slim possibility that it had been nothing but a merry coincidence, a onetime phenomenon that had occurred for unexplainable reasons, and the danger of relapse would never be removed entirely, but there was finally a glimmer of hope in their bleak world. As of now, it was all they could cling to.

4


	6. Chapter 6

**Note** : _I wanted to thank you all for your kind reviews (they make my day) and wish you a happy new year._ _As always, apologies for any mistakes I try to reread myself as thoroughly as possible but some might elude me._

Ethan Chandler knocked on Vanessa's door and waited for a response. The woman had locked herself in the room hours before and had yet to resurface, a detail which had ignited Sir Malcom's worry and his own protectiveness towards the woman. Upon hearing nothing, he opened the door, peeking inside to find the daywalker engrossed in an old volume. She didn't seem to notice his presence and he cleared his throat to alert her.

"Mr. Chandler, my apologies I didn't hear you arrive."

"I can see that. Sir Malcom sent me to check on you and bring you lunch."

He gestured towards the tray he was holding, then placed it on a minute edge of the desk left unblemished by books and parchments.

"Thank you Mr. Chandler. I'm afraid I have lost track of time."

He glanced at the scrawny, compact lines of ink staining the pages with interest but found little answer as to what they meant.

"Catriona and Mr. Lyle have searched the archived of the London museum. It would appear that some information in regards to pre-Ottoman Dracula and to Brother Gregory's story has survived."

His expression darkened, unsure whether allowing Vanessa to dig further into the unfortunate's monk tale was a secure option.

"Vanessa what happened to him-"

"Is what happened to me. What _will_ happen to me if I do not defeat the brothers."

There had been no happy ending for Brother Gregory, killed by his own brothers because possessed and there would be no happy ending for Vanessa either. Death was the only escape though that thought provided little solace. Vanessa found herself eager to live for the first time in many years, she was no longer willing to give herself up as a mean of escape from her own demons. Just a little while back she had believed it to be the best alternative to the inevitable darkness she had plunged the world in but the near death experience had pricked her survival instincts and chased such thoughts away for good. If she was going to die, she was going to do so in a fight and she would make sure to bring both cursed brothers down with her.

"We will defeat them. I'm sure of it."

There was a dense silence, then Ethan Chandler seemed to snap out of a trance as he gathered the now emptied tray and made his way to the door.

"Sir Malcom invited us to the theater tonight. From what I gather, Mr. Lyle and Ms. Hartdegen will be joining us."

"I shall gladly tag along then."

The past week had been hectic in terms of preparations, experiments and research in regards to the prophecy and the battles to come but surprisingly, there had been no incidents attributed to either the devil or his sibling. It was an event that called for celebration and some well deserved relaxation and the theater seemed like the perfect occasion to achieve both purposes.

"Our guests should be here shortly Miss Ives. I'll leave you to your studies."

"Thank you Mr. Chandler."

The American headed for the door and seemed stop and think as he turned around with a question he longed to ask burning on the tip of his tongue. He seemed to hesitate, looking unsure (an unusual thing for the normally outspoken, bold young man).

"Why do you trust Miss Hartdegen?"

"Should I not?"

"We hardly know anything about her. What ensures she isn't on the enemy's side?"

he masked his bitterness as concern. Jealousy wasn't one of his traits but Vanessa seemed to awaken the primal side if him and though he failed to understand the two women's relationship, he distrusted Catriona. The earlier he succeeded in ridding himself of her, the better.

"Mr. Lyle recommended her and she has proven multiple times that she is on our side. You of all people should know, she was there during the final battle if my memory serves me right. Besides Mr. Chandler, her knowledge about the fallen brothers is superior to that of any of us aside perhaps from Mr. Lyle."

He noticed Vanessa's uncharacteristic defensiveness and quietened down. Arguing now would do nothing but spoil the mood and put an end to the week of bliss the group had been plunged in.

"Very well, I shall have faith in your words."

There was no reply, the woman had immersed herself once more in her books.

For a few moments before their guests were due to arrive, Vanessa wondered if she would see Catriona in a more feminine attire, perhaps a dress thought she suspected it would be a rather minimalistic one in despite of the elegant, upper class setting they were due to attend. A smile came spontaneous when the red haired woman came into sight, sporting trousers and a shirt topped by waistcoat and cloth frock coat that no doubt gave her a sophisticated appearance. Had it been anyone else, Vanessa would have thought such masculine garnments to suffocate every crumb of femininity the individual possessed but when it came to the fencer, the opposite effect was achieved. It was the perfect blend of her characteristic rebellious sharpness and the grace and finesse of her gender. It was a bold move and one that would turn heads but Catriona didn't seem to mind. Had it been a more understanding society or had they been in the privacy of their home, Vanessa would have no doubt latched onto her partner's arm and allowed herself to be accompanied by Catriona the same way any other couple would, but theirs was an unforgiving society when it came to certain relations and the risk was too great compared to the reward. Instead, she allowed Sir Malcom to take the job. She felt much more at ease around him now days than she did around Mr. Chandler and she would rather seek his company than that of the American who was otherwise occupied with Mr. Lyle whose incessant chatter held him captive. Furtive glances were stolen in the carriage as the two women laid eyes upon each other with a knowing smile on their lips, too enigmatic for anyone else to understand and yet wonderfully clear for both parties involved.

"What play are we viewing Sir Malcom?"

"Twelfth Night. I took the liberty of choosing a comedy to brighten our moods. We have had some rather gloom days, I believe the moment has come for us to enjoy some laughter, at least for a couple of hours."

Vanessa had to stifle an amused chuckle. Twelfth Night seemed oddly apt given her circumstances though she doubted Sir Malcom would be able to catch the irony of it all. Catriona sported the same bemused expression though she hid it well beneath her usual charming smugness and Vanessa thought she saw a sparkle of understanding flash in Ferdinand Lyle's light eyes.

"You couldn't have chosen a better one, I must say."

Next to her, the patriarch smiled before diverging his attention outside the carriage's window. The ride was brief and before long the frozen December wind had left place to the welcoming warmth of the theater, filled by waiting spectators belonging to the higher social classes of London. The group raised a few eyebrows (how could they not when Ethan Chandler still had his guns faithfully by his side and Catriona was not only dressed like no other woman was, but also proudly unaccompanied?) but the fact didn't bother them. It had happed far too many times already for such futile attention to cause any trouble. The thanatologist was clever in placing herself so that in the brief moment of disorganization that inevitably preceded their claiming the seats, Vanessa was able to sit next to her. There was no desire to be subtle in their intentions but such actions couldn't betray the truth of their relationship for after all, as far as anyone knew, the seats had been previously assigned and had undergone no manipulation. The lights fell, the curtains rose and the play begun. Truth to be told, Catriona cared little about what went on on stage. She had never been one to enjoy theater which, in her humble opinion, was much more frustrating than enjoyable. She was the type of individual born to move, being confined to a chair for several hours went against her very nature and had it not been for Vanessa's presence, she probably would have invented an excuse to avoid going altogether. But for the time being, the pale hand that had sneaked its way into Catriona's own made the discomfort worth it. The darkness allowed for more proximity than society would have otherwise tolerated: the subtle dance of entwining fingers, the almost indiscernible leaning of one woman towards the other, the furtive glances casted sideways gleaming with joy. They knew Mr. Lyle would criticize them later for their risk taking but caught in the moment, they cared little for what would come in the future. Enough subtlety was used to allow every gesture to be interpreted as nothing more than a sign of close friendship and Catriona doubted even Mr. Chandler (who due to jealousy no doubt, seemed so keen on exposing them) would notice.

She didn't know how much time had passed when a flimsy streak of white caught her attention out of the corner of her eye. She thought she distinguished an all too familiar figure making its lurid way outside the room's door and with the wit that characterized her, Catriona gently released Vanessa's hand.

"Please excuse me for a moment, I will be right back."

Had she been further down the row she would have felt guilty for misplacing people but being nearest to the exit, her disappearing act was quick and quiet. She rushed outside, following the flash of paleness that preceded her into the narrow labyrinth of backstage and empty rooms until it disappeared. The room was dark, bathed in the kind of dim lighting that caused one's eyes to adjust only after a few, crucial minutes. The silence was deafening as she gazed around in an attempt to locate the creature. She knew Vanessa had found the beast's nest in a theater before and that did little to ease her mind, but if a Vampire really had led her there, she was sure as hell going to discover why and uncover his plans. Her hand rested on the pommel of her dagger for several heartbeats as she strained her senses to capture the softest of creaks, the faintest change in smell or the smallest breeze: anything at all that could betray someone else's presence in the space around her. There was nothing. Carefully, she turned to the door. She drew her sword as soon as the wood creaked. Metal met flesh and the telltale screech of pain that followed told her she had reached her target. Her eyes adjusted to the lighting enough to make out the crouched shadow of a young girl, no older than 15. Had it not been for the deathly pallor of her skin or the troubling opaqueness of her eyes, she could have passed for any regular girl. She recovered with a flash and things became nothing but a blur of flashing teeth, scraping nails and lashing daggers. Pain bloomed in Catriona's right arm just as she drove her blade into the creature's chest. She felt the sting of the wounds before she registered the warm, sticky liquid pouring down her limb as being blood and passed her dagger from her right to left hand, muttering a curse beneath her breath. The vampire hissed and growled but she kept it pinned down to the ground until its agonized twitches died out and it was left exhausted, spilling dark blood on the wooden floorboards.

"Where is your master?"

The low growl the question came out as masked the pain spreading rapidly in her upper body, radiating from the wound to her shoulder and proceeding down her left side in a blur of searing heat. The girl laughed: a bitter, mocking laugh that was enough to enlighten Catriona.

"With his brother."

The fencer pressed the blade further into the vampire's chest, causing the mad cackle to turn into a pathetic, spluttering sound.

"He will win. The master will have his bride and when he does darkness will rise and reclaim power. You won't be able to defeat him this time."

"Why are you here?"

"You're too late"

The enigmatic words died out and the creature wheezed one last time before becoming limp and lifeless. Catriona left it impaled on her dagger, in case that vermin had any tricks up its sleeve. Not that she mourned the loss of her blade, she had enough on her to fight off any other dangers lurking in the theater. She dashed outside, now fully understanding what the last words had meant. She had never been the target, Vanessa was. The vampire had done nothing but lure her out so as to leave Vanessa exposed to whatever it was the two cursed brothers had planned. The pain was becoming close to unbearable (only God knew what kind of filth the wound was infected with) but she did her best to ignore it. She found Sir Malcom and the rest of the company outside the theater's doors, gathered around Vanessa in what could only be described as a mixture of sheer terror and pure worry. It didn't take her long to figure out why: something had changed in her, her smile was the same sadistic grin she knew the devil had, her eyes had grown dark and soulless and the voice she muttered foreign words with was raspy beyond what any human could posses. In that instant, Catriona was certain of two elementary things: the battle had begun much earlier than expected and two, she had failed Vanessa. The knowledge of it all brought on a pain so intense that even the deep, ragged gashes on her arm couldn't equal.


	7. Chapter 7

**Note:** after a long pause here is the new chapter, I apologize for the wait.

The tick tock of the clock resonated in the empty room and echoed in the silence, ringing out through the deserted hallways of Sir Malcom's home. Catriona looked at the device's arms move tediously slow against the numbered background. Somewhere in the distance she could hear soft whispers she knew belonged to Dr. Frankenstein and Sir Malcom but even when straining her ear in an attempt to eavesdrop, she couldn't make out the words being spoken. She waited until the door was opened and the young doctor joined her.

"How is she, Doctor?"

Dr. Frankenstein 's lips contorted in a displeased expression.

"Not as well as I wish she were. The fever refuses to depart, she is growing weak and she refuses to eat."

A little over a week had passed since the events at the theatre and it had become sadly evident that the evil that afflicted Vanessa was too fierce for her to exert her developing powers of control over it.

"What are we to do?"

"Wait. I myself am skeptical about he supernatural but it is undeniable even for a man of science such as myself, that Ms. Ives's affliction goes beyond anything my methods can cure. All I can do is ensure that some degree of nourishment is provided and that her fever is controlled when it runs rampant."

Catriona's lips tightened in a straight, preoccupied line at the young man's words. There were few things she hated more than feeling useless. Her instincts demanded that she protect Vanessa from whatever enemy had harmed her and yet she was painfully aware that there was nothing she could do. No sword could save the daywalker, no heroic quest could bring her back from where she had gone. Such knowledge was terrifying and the red haired fencer shook her head to chase it away. She was not one to loose hope easily, Vanessa had fallen ill before and survived, she would do so again.

"Very well, Doctor Frankenstein. If nothing is to be done, then we shall wait. May I visit Miss Ives now?"

"Yes thought prolonged visits may tier her out further."

"I will keep it brief."

The young doctor nodded curtly before bidding Catriona a good day and making his way across the hall update Ethan Chandler on Miss Ives's conditions. The fencer open the door left ajar by the doctor with unsteady fingers, for as much as she longed to be by her beloved's side, she was unsure on what sight may await her. The room was dark and bathed in the kind of eerie penumbra one might expect to lure foul creatures in rather than aid one to combat them. Against such a somber background, Vanessa's emaciated form stood out like a dying star in the darkness of the night sky. Catriona's heart clenched at the sight.

Cold. So, so Cold. Vanessa was shaken by violent shivers ravaging every inch of her body and went far beyond what any physical illness could achieve. Sweat drenched her nightgown and stuck the cloth to her flesh, clinging to her like a second unwanted skin which she itched to molt. And yet in despite of the dreadful cold her flesh was burning, seared by something invisible and persistent which she couldn't escape from. It was intolerable, as were the ghostly touches laid upon her skin by those very, unholy hands she had so long fled from. They came concealed under innocuous appearances, clones of people she loved identical to their originals in everything but intention. How many times had she relished in Catriona's warm embrace only to open her eyes with what little energy she had left and stare into the terrifying black orbs of the demon having taken her appearance. When she felt a deceptively familiar touch on her hand, her first instinct was to pull away but the fingers that laced themselves with hers with uttermost delicacy held her back with the gentle, respectful determination that could belong to no other than Catriona.

"It's me Vanessa, fear not."

"How am I to ensure it is really you? Keep your distance demon."

Through half lidded eyes the daywalker thought she saw the figure retreat brusquely as if taken back by the answer. There was pain lingering in her eyes…eyes that for the first time in days weren't the color of petroleum but instead shone bright with a serious liveliness impossible to fake.

"I am no demon. On that much you must believe me."

Catriona's hand was pressed softly against her forehead, the apparent coldness of her skin bringing a long sought after relief to the unbearable heat that engulfed Vanessa. The touch felt almost electric and pleasant in a manner in which that of a demon could never be; but then again…perhaps that was what the devil wanted- he had tricked her before, months ago coming to her bedchamber under the form of Ethan Chandler and he had almost had her. She couldn't afford to let that happen again.

"You're burning up."

"Leave me alone. I shall not fall for your tricks. I have made that mistake once before but I have learned my lesson. It will not happen again."

Catriona bit her lip, drawing blood in an attempt to stop the tears that she saw lingering on the edge of her vision. Seeing Vanessa in such dire conditions was difficult to say the least, but hearing the harsh words coming out of her pale lips, added to in hostility by the cracked hoarseness of her voice, and witnessing the blue eyed woman retreating from her touch was unbearable.

"Vanessa please."

"I have seen all of your tricks before. You won't tempt me this time. There is too much at stake for me to fail."

A tear rolling down the fencer's visage caught what little light shone in the room and seemed to burn up for a brief second before being engulfed by the darkness, yet it was enough for Vanessa to notice. The demon was crying. Her lips parted in surprise, taken back by the sight of the figure breaking before her, its façade of tender strength collapsing beneath a pain as ancient as time. What tactic was this? What perverse method of persuasion had the devil concocted? It was nothing like he had ever utilized before. Could a demon feel? Could it truly feel pain and sadness like humans could? A burning hand was pressed to soft lips with a despair so raw and genuine Vanessa couldn't help but wonder if perhaps this wasn't the devil at all.

"What can I do to convince you of my word's truthfulness? Please tell me."

Catriona's voice cracked, ravaged by the guilt of having unwillingly taken part in causing Vanessa's illness and by the agony of no longer being wanted into the daywalker's life. Few things were as painful as being so blatantly rejected and distrusted of when her love for the woman threated to consume her, and she was being undone at her very seams. Vanessa remained quiet as her confusion grew stronger and her certainties though seemingly so justified, wavered dangerously close to collapsing. The ill woman sat up with a grimace of pain and the slow, precarious movements of someone too weak to take on such a simple yet daunting task, and as she did so, she was fully aware of the worry drowning Catriona's gaze. Could the Devil truly look at her with such pure concern? Could his deceit reach the extent of him showing vulnerability? He had done it before and yet one thing was missing- every time without failing he had shown his true self. He had done it when impersonating Sir Malcom, he had done it as Ethan Chandler…his objective had never remained secret for long and yet now…now he seemed to show no desire to expose himself or take advantage of her.

"Tell me you love me."

"I love you, more so than words can describe. I have loved you for a long long time Vanessa, far before I ever had the courage to voice it."

There was an honesty in her tone that Vanessa was certain couldn't be replicated. This was Catriona. The declaration itself was nothing but a further way to confirm her feelings and reassure doubts that had been surfacing already. She wouldn't have been able to explain what compelled her to believe Catriona was indeed Catriona yet her certainty was now absolute. Perhaps it was time to trust once more. She pressed her lips to the fencer's in a kiss that had nothing beautiful or delicate to it. It was messy, mixing fear and despair in equal measure as illness and danger overshadowed the joy of being once again reunited. The saltiness of tears and the roughness of lips chapped by thirst and fever were of little importance to either woman as the darkness within seemed to retreat, leaving any shadow of a doubt Vanessa still had to dissolve in to dust.

Sir Malcom didn't realize he was digging his nails into the wooden doorframe until a blunt pain shot trough his fingertips yet he judged the discomfort to be minor enough to be ignored. The sight he looked upon was scandalous to say the least. He should have suspected that the relationship between Catriona Hartdegen and Vanessa was everything but simply professional, there were few things around Miss Ives that weren't perverted in one manner or the other (he failed to understand why he would think otherwise, after all the woman had an intimate connection with the devil). Anger bubbled up in his chest brought along by bitter disgust and the deep-set, repulsive knowledge that such lurid activities had been taking place under his roof, that the unholy relationship had very possibly been consumed in his own home. He resisted the impulse to barge into the room and pull the two women apart and in a rare moment of rationality he realized such actions would bring more harm than good in the already tense context the household found itself in. No, the best option was to wait until both women were healthy enough to discuss their behavior. One thing though he knew for certain- this could not continue, as long as his heart beat and air filled his lungs he would not allow for such sins to be committed.


End file.
